This Can't Be Happening
by Ashley5627
Summary: This couldn't be happening. One moment it was happiness and ease, then suddenly tires were squealing, metal was screeching against metal, glass shattering and flying through the air, mingling with the endless rain falling from the sky like tears of angels.


**This fic is for kanarek13's gift basket for the Fall Fest over at collarcorner on LiveJournal. It's based on her beautiful artwork This Can't Be Happening, which has inspired me greatly! You can see it on her page at LiveJournal or AO3.**

This This couldn't be happening. It just didn't make sense how things changed so quickly and drastically. From anticipation of a wonderful evening to chaos and heartbreak as everything fell apart around them.

One moment, they were in Sara's car as she drove them through the heavy rain to one of the most expensive and prestigious restaurants in the city that had a three month waitlist for those that did not know the owner, but Neal did.

Sara was explaining the lengthy and complicated research behind insurance investigation, saying that there was more to retrieving a stolen item than beating down non-compliant idiots with her telescoping baton, while Neal was watching the street lights and shadows dance across her red hair and ivory skin, nearly entranced by her endless beauty.

Then suddenly tires were squealing, metal was screeching against metal, glass shattering and flying through the air, mingling with the endless rain falling from the sky like tears of angels.

Then, as quickly as it had started, everything stopped. Nothing but the sound of rain pattering on the car could be heard. The cat that had run in front of the car was long gone, not a scratch on it as it ran down an alley out of sight.

Neal felt like he was in a daze of some sort, a ringing in his ears and blurriness to his vision further disorienting him. With considerable amount of effort, Neal lifted his pained head from were it rested on the window of the passenger-side door, where, once his vision cleared as the ringing died down, he could see a bloodied spiderweb pattern, originating from where his head had been. His chest, right were the seatbelt rested, hurt in a way he'd come to know meant broken, or at the very least, very badly bruised ribs.

Car crash - he'd been in a car crash. That much seemed clear, but how did that even happen? Neal gazed out the cracked windows, hoping to find answers out there.

The rain-soaked street was completely empty, the bad weather having made everyone retreat indoors. As he looked around, Neal realized that the car he was in had hit a parked car to the right, apparently having sideswiped it before driving into a streetlamp that it was now wrapped around. But that meant no one else was hurt, which was good.

As his mind slowly cleared, Neal remembered that he'd been with someone. _Oh god, Sara!_ Neal turned his head, ignoring the stab of pain the movement brought, and his heart clenched at the sight.

Sara was slumped bonelessly against her seat, the thin trail of blood on her face being washed away by the rain that was getting in through the broken window next to her.

"Sara," Neal rasped, surprised by the weakness of his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, finding more success that time. "Sara!" When she still didn't react, Neal reached over to shake her lightly, once again ignoring his own pain. She still didn't move. With a shaky hand, Neal felt for a pulse and was relieved beyond words to feel a steady beating under his fingers. She was alive, but unconscious.

Help, they needed help. Neal reached into his jacket to retrieve his phone, praying that it wasn't damaged. Unfortunately, it had been broken by the crash, the screen cracked and blank even when he futilely pressed all of the buttons.

Neal nearly started to search for Sara's phone, but then he remembered that she'd mentioned that she had forgotten it at her apartment. It had annoyed her to forget something like that, but said that she didn't need it for the couple of hours they'd be out.

Heart now hammering in his chest, Neal tried to figure out what to do next. Help was clearly not coming to them, and it was obvious that Sara needed medical attention - immediately. With Sara incapacitated, he'd have to bring her to safety - a hospital or even someone with a phone. Leaving her behind while he searched for help was not even an option that crossed his mind for a second.

Rain poured down around them in endless waves, blowing into the broken window next to Sara. She was getting soaked and Neal was quick as he could be in his current state to unbuckle his seatbelt, slip his jacket off and carefully put it on Sara after unbuckling her. She seemed so small with it enveloping her. Small and fragile.

The mere thought of moving was a painful prospect, but not moving meant Sara possibly dying and that could not happen. Neal's head ached fiercely, his whole chest was a mess of pain and there was definitely something wrong with his right leg, but he put all of that aside so he could focus on helping Sara.

He only stopped to rip his tie off and unbutton the first few buttons of his white dress shirt when the air seemed to get harder to breathe. He couldn't possibly help Sara if he was being suffocated by his own clothes, he reasoned as he used precious seconds tending to himself.

The car they were in had moved far enough forward during the crash for Neal to be able to open the door, if it hadn't been damaged by the crash. Unfortunately, it had and Neal was forced to hit his shoulder against it two agonizing times, jarring his whole body and worsening the agony he was trying his damnedest not to drown in, before it finally gave.

Once free from the car, Neal stumbled clumsily out onto the wet road, landing in a large puddle on his hands and knees, but even if he hadn't, he would have been soaked in seconds by the pouring rain regardlessly. Standing on unsteady legs, Neal then staggered to the drivers side, each step adding a new level of pain. Yeah, there was _definitely_ something wrong with that leg.

Sara's side of the car hadn't been damaged directly, except for the window when the car had hit the streetlamp hard enough to jar the glass into breaking, so opening the door was easy enough. That couldn't be said for lifting Sara out of the car and into the rain, her shoes slipping off of her feet as he picked her up.

She was petite enough to carry bridal-style, but Neal wasn't in a great enough state to get far without extra weight pulling him towards the ground, let alone another person influencing the equation. He only truly realized that when he took three unsteady steps toward the nearest street corner before his knees started to give out and blackness invaded the edges of his vision.

Stubbornly, Neal forged onward, determined to get Sara to safety as his body screamed at him to stop moving and _just give up_.

Already, they were both completely soaked by the relentless rain, but at least the jacket Neal had put on Sara protected her from some of the harshness of the chilly precipitation.

Each step was harder and more painful than the last, but he refused to stop. If he rounded this corner, then maybe someone would spot them and provide them with the help they needed. It was their only hope.

Neal held Sara close, her head resting on his shoulder as though she was simply sleeping. "Please don't die on me, Sara. _Please_ ," Neal murmured in Sara's ear as he struggled to take another step, straining more under the weight of his possible failure than her physical weight. She had to make it - there was just no other option he could possibly fathom.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of sluggish and agonizing walking, Neal made it around the corner, only to see a street completely empty of anything resembling the help he so desperately needed - _Sara_ so desperately needed.

He could walk farther, he told himself. He could do this, get Sara help, then sleep for a week, at peace with the fact that she was okay. But his body was weaker than his mind, it turned out. He would have pushed past the pain and darkness closing in on him forever if only he'd get Sara someplace safe, but he just couldn't take one more step.

Landing jarringly hard on one knee, Neal strained to get back up, but it simply was not happening, even if he were willing to leave Sara, which he was not.

Now resting on Neal's leg, Sara's left hand was draped on Neal's right shoulder as her head tipped backward, her once perfectly styled fiery red hair now soaked and as limp as the rest of her. She was just so still, which was so out of character to her usual strong and confident presence she always wore.

Most people probably thought that Neal Caffrey didn't do scared, never let his emotions get the better of him and never worried about the possible outcomes to any of the crazy situations he got himself into. But that was only what he let them see. That was only true when there was someone to witness the cracks in the perfect façade he'd built over the years.

Now there was no one to observe the breakdown, to see the utter terror mar his face as the reality of the situation truly sunk in. Sara was unconscious, so she wouldn't have the chance to attempt to discern the sorrowful tears that fell from his eyes from the relentless rain that doused him.

Defeated, Neal slumped forward, shielding Sara from the heavy rain as best as he could. He couldn't move anymore, but at least he could shelter her from the heavy rain pounding on her skin and leaching the warmth from her body.

As Neal lost consciousness, all he could think was _not her. Not Sara_ , the fierce insurance investigator that just might have stollen his heart like he'd had that Raphael that started her on his trail all those years ago.

WCWCWCWC

Neal woke to the soft, muted sounds of people moving about busily somewhere in the distance. A faint beeping could be heard, as could the sound of a nearby conversation. Neal would have strained his ears to try to hear what they were saying, but it seemed like it would be far too much effort.

His thoughts were moving sluggishly, nothing seemed to click in his head as to what was going on. There was something in the back of his mind that was nagging at him, something very important, but he had somehow forgotten about.

Knowing that he had to find out what happened and where he was, Neal ignored the strong pull to fall back to sleep and figure things out later and opened his eyes, which took much more effort than it should have. Everything around him told him that he was in a hospital, but he couldn't remember why until he made the mistake of moving.

Pain from his head shot all of the way to his chest and ended at his right leg as the frightening memories came back to him in sudden flashing images. The car crash, Sara, he hadn't been able to save her. He had been too weak, too much damage had been done. He remembered that he hadn't been able to make it any farther, but how did he get here then? Did this mean Sara was okay, too?

The door to Neal's left opening brought him back to the present. It was Peter who entered, hopefully bearing good news about Sara. "Hey, you're up," Peter said when he saw Neal, smiling warmly in such a way that would have calmed Neal in any other situation.

"Sara? Is she okay?" Neal asked immediately, his heart sinking when Peter hesitated and his smile faltered slightly. "Oh god, she's dead, isn't she? I couldn't - couldn't get her help. I tried, I did, but I couldn't," he stammered, and he knew that he was just making up excuses, but how could he live with the burden of one more person's death resting on his already heavily weighted shoulders? Kate and Ellen were bad enough, his failures demons that still haunted him in his sleep to this day. Now Sara's death would be another demon of the night.

He'd actually been stupid enough to start thinking that she might have been the one, that he'd get that white picket fence happily-ever-after that he'd always wanted, but could never achieve and secretly thought that he never deserved. He'd fallen for her completely and unequivocally, like he always seemed to, but now she was gone and they'd never get to know how their story could have ended.

Peter moved forward with his hands up to stop Neal from talking. "Woah, Neal, calm down. Sara's fine. A little hurt and a lot pissed off for having wrecked a company car because of a cat, but she's alive and kicking. And she's also worried about you," Peter explained calmly, and that had Neal relaxing as his words registered to his panic and grief fogged brain.

"She's worried about me?" Neal asked, surprised and still in shock that Sara was alive. She was okay, she was.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes, dummy. We all were," Peter said annoyedly, but with not heat behind it.

"All?" Neal asked, brows furrowed. _Who was all?_

"Yes, you have quite the fan club waiting for you," Peter said humorously, smiling fondly, then suddenly turned serious as he sighed and slumped his shoulders slightly. "We were all really worried about you, Neal. The seatbelt you had on probably saved you from taking a header through the windshield, but it still broke some ribs and caused some serious internal bleeding. The doctors were able to fix all of the damage, but it's been a very stressful day for us and I'm sure they'd all like to see you."

"Can I see Sara first?" Neal asked, needing to see her now, see that she was whole and no longer unmoving and soaked to the bone. It wasn't that he thought Peter would lie to him about something like this, but Neal had to see Sara with his own two eyes before he could really believe it.

"Yeah, I'll go get her," Peter said, eyeing Neal in the way he did when he knew exactly what Neal wasn't saying, then left.

Neal fumbled for the remote to the bed and used it to lift the head of it so he looked more presentable and less like he was on the verge of death, which was pretty close to what he felt like. But while he was still in considerable pain and felt like he could fall right back to sleep, he had to at least stay awake until he knew Sara was alright.

"You said she was fine," Neal said accusingly when Peter came back a few minutes later, pushing Sara in a wheelchair. The blood that had been on her face was gone, leaving an impossibly small cut near her hairline that was closed by butterfly stitches and her wet clothes was replaced by blue scrubs, but she was a bit too pale and that along with the wheelchair had Neal worrying.

Peter opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sara beat him to it. "I _am_ fine. Just a _minor_ concussion. This stupid wheelchair isn't even necessary," she said, taking over by rolling herself next to the bed Neal was in.

"Even though you nearly hit your head again when you tried to stand up?" Peter asked pointedly, but not cruelly since Peter was not capable of that.

"I'm just a little dizzy, and I haven't eaten in a while," Sara defended, and she was smiling and seemed plenty conscious and whole, so Neal had to believe her.

"I'll go see what I can find for you," Peter said, probably more of an excuse to give them a chance to talk alone than to find food.

"We never did get to that restaurant, I take it?" Neal said once Peter left.

Sara reached out and took ahold of Neal's hand, gripping it reassuringly. "No, we didn't. That damn cat running in front of the car ruined that. I probably shouldn't have even tried to dodge it, but I couldn't just _hit_ the thing," Sara said, clearly frustrated in herself.

Neal tightened his grip on Sara's hand for a moment. "Sara, you did the right thing. I'm just glade you're okay," Neal said honestly.

"And I'm glade _you're_ okay," Sara said back, but her compassionate voice just made Neal feel even more guilty about his inability to help her when she needed it the most.

Neal ducked his head shamefully, twisting his free hand in the blanket covering him. "I tried to get you to safety, but I was just too weak and didn't make it far," he said guiltily.

Sara leaned forward to catch Neal's eye. "Hey, you _did_ save us. Peter told me that someone found us and brought us here. If you hadn't brought us as far as you did, we might not have been found in time."

Neal nodded, more to appease Sara than agree with her. It had just been luck that saved them, not him.

"And just so you know, I find guys carrying women _very_ sexy," Sara said slowly, her eyes now suggestive.

Neal smiled, happy to be off the subject of their near-death and who's fault it was. "Oh yeah? I honestly didn't peg you for the damsel in distress," Neal said humorously.

"Oh, I'm not, but a girl can ask for some romanticism every once in a while, right?" Sara asked playfully.

Neal shifted toward her, then winced as his body protested the movement. "Well, sorry to disappoint, but I think it'll be a while before I'll be sweeping you off your feet," he said tightly. Fortunately, the pain died down quickly, most likely because of the drugs he was currently on.

Sara leaned in close, staring at Neal seductively. "Oh, trust me, Neal Caffrey, I can wait," she said slowly, then came even closer to kiss him, but, _of course_ , Peter chose that moment to come back in. Sara settled back in her wheelchair, the blush covering her cheeks simply adorable.

"Sorry," Peter said, not sounding one tiny bit sorry. He was actually smiling as Neal scowled at him mildly. "I can't hold them back any longer, so prepare yourself for some smothering," he said, then Neal forced himself to sit up more as June and Elizabeth walked in, Mozzie trailing behind them.

"Oh, Neal," Elizabeth said sympathetically as she took in Neal's appearance right as June murmured, "Neal, darling." They both went to the side of the bed Sara was not at and took ahold of his arm. Their touches were warm and reassuring and had Neal relaxing into the bed despite wanting to keep up appearances.

"Wow, you look like crap, and I imagine that takes some doing," Mozzie said as he stayed near the door, which was his way of saying that he was worried about Neal as well. Neal had known Mozzie long enough to know that.

Neal just replied with a slightly sarcastic, "Thanks, Moz."

Even though a man that could garner the undivided attention an entire room just with his dazzling smile, Neal was not use to all of this direct, intimate concern and attention, so he just smiled shyly as Elizabeth and June made sure that his pillows were fluffed enough and he had everything that he needed while Peter bickered with Mozzie about where Neal was going to stay after he left the hospital in a few days.

"He can stay with me," Sara spoke up suddenly, then clamped her mouth shut when everyone in the room turned to look at her. Sara wasn't exactly known for her warm, caring nature, so no one, not even Sara, it seemed, excepted her to say that. "Uh, or not. I mean, wherever Neal would like to go will be fine," she continued awkwardly when everyone just kept staring.

"I don't think that I have much say in this, I'm afraid," Neal stage-whispered to Sara, who smiled and relaxed at his joke-that-really-wasn't-a-joke.

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking up. "No, Sara, I think that could work best, if you think about it. All of the symptoms from your concussion should be long gone by then. Not to mention the fact that your place doesn't have any stairs inside, so that would be better since Neal's going to be on crutches for a while," Peter said, always one to think of the important details of a situation.

Belatedly, Neal looked down at his legs, only now noticing that one of the lumps under the blanket coving him was about twice the size of the other and that it felt very heavy, most likely because of a cast of some sort. No wonder it had been so painful to walk on.

Neal looked back up on time to see Sara nod, but she still looked a bit unsure of her suggestion.

"I don't have to if you don't think it will work out," Neal said, giving her the out she seemed to want. He wouldn't feel comfortable staying with Sara if she felt that he was a burden to her.

"No-no, I think it would be good, you know, for your leg," Sara said, but Neal could see in her eyes and the slight, genuine smile on her face what she really wanted to say. She _wanted_ him to stay with her, and that had Neal smiling widely and relaxing completely.

Neal had just had emergency surgery, would be on crouches for the foreseeable future and had a headache that would only become worse as he was weened off the good drugs. His recovery was sure to be a long, painful process, but, surrounded by people that truly cared about him and would willingly nurse him back to health without even batting an eye, things were looking pretty great from his perspective.

 **Thanks for reading!**


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